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Chapter 37
Previous Chapter "This is your cell, prisoner UM-188." The prisoner was roughly pushed onto a cold, metallic floor. He scowled and glared at the guard in the black coat, whose face was shrouded by their hood. The guard pressed a series of keys on the wall, and a loud buzz sounded. A wall of faint blue light appeared after a few seconds that made a faint humming sound. Satisfied, the guard walked away. The prisoner put his head down, and curled up into a ball. His head was pounding, and his body ached. He had no idea where he was, or who these people were. His hands reached up and touched a black metal collar that attached tightly to his neck, roughly an inch in thickness. They told him they could trigger a bomb in the collar remotely if he tried anything funny. Tears welled up, and he shivered. He was scared. The last thing he remembered was trying to protect a girl from a group of hooded figures. When he landed between them, his whole body suddenly paralyzed. All he saw before blacking out was the hooded figures turning on him instead, and the grinning silhouette of the girl holding electricity in her bare hands. A loud buzz woke up prisoner UM-188. He pushed himself from the floor, not even remembering falling asleep. He looked up. A guard was escorting another prisoner, a girl in her late teens, into the cell in front of his. She had her eyes closed, more accepting of her situation than he had been. Another buzz, and a blue light materialized in front of the girl's cell. She opened her eyes, bold green eyes looked into his. She said nothing to him. --- Prisoner UM-188 was standing in a queue. He was starving, but he could smell food. He nervously glanced at the corner of his eyes, trying not to let the guards see that he was looking around. He was in some sort of cafeteria. There were multiple tables and benches were some of the prisoners were already eating. It wasn't very loud; the cafeterias at school were much more lively. When he got to the front of the queue, a conveyor belt brought out a new tray for him. It was basic; just chicken, vegetables, rice, and water, but he hadn't eaten in a day, so to him it was a feast. He picked up the tray and walked to the tables. Surrounding the round room were guards all cloaked in black. He looked at the other prisoners. Most of them kept to themselves or small groups, not making eye contact. Every single one of them were also wearing that collar. Then, he spotted the girl with the bold green eyes. He propelled himself, and planted his feet when he got close. The girl looked up from behind her medium-length brown hair, her eyes shining. "Um... is it alright if I sit here?" he asked her. She looked at him, not saying anything for a few seconds, before going back to eating her food. He didn't take that as a refusal, so he sat across from her and began eating. Nothing was said between them until he had finished his food. Then, he said, "What's your name? What is this place? Who are these people?" The girl said nothing. She had eaten everything save for the chicken. It looked like she was done. Prisoner UM-188 became frustrated. "Why are you saying anything?!" "Word of advice, I wouldn't make friends here if I were you," she said finally. She put her utensils onto the tray and began to make her leave. That's when he noticed the burn scar on her right hand. "What happened to your hand?" She still said nothing, and started walking away. He watched her go. "Can I at least have your chicken?" --- It had been half a day since eating when UM-188 was brought out from his cell. Now he was standing in a raised, square arena made of stone tiles. Above him were overhead floodlights that illuminated the entire arena, and there were walls that circled the arena. Occasionally, the walls were broken up by long stretches of glass. Silhouettes of people could be seen, sitting and watching. At the side of the arena was a large jumbotron with speakers attached to the side. A female voice rang out across the stadium. "Okay ladies and gentlemen! Here we begin!!" A woman appeared on the jumbotron. She was also wearing the black cloak, but had her hood down. Her hair was an unnatural orange, pushed back by the headphone and mic she wore. "I'm your host, Juri! Today we have a new combatant for you! This will be the first time we really get to test this User! On the blue ring, it's UM-188!!" There was a round of applause, and Prisoner UM-188 saw his portrait appear on the jumbotron, with different stats and attributes about him. "And on the red ring! You already know this guy! He's UE-079!! Let's see if he finally moves onto the next 10 floors, shall we?!" A lone person walked up the steps and stood opposite of Prisoner UM-188. He was taller than him, probably in his late 30s, but he was thin, even weak-looking physically. He also had that black collar around his neck. He looked stoic, staring past UM-188 instead of at him. "Are you ready to place your bets?! Ready! GO!!" Prisoner UM-188 saw the jumbotron now display both him and UE-079. There was a pie graph and numbers that appeared under both profiles, randomly increasing and decreasing. After a few seconds, they stopped with a beep. "All bets are in, and the odds favor UE-079!! It seems like not too many people want to take a chance on the newbie!" Realization dawned. They were going to fight?! The jumbotron transitioned back to showing Juri. "All fights are judged by a point system! Let me introduce you all to our referee, Jorge!" The camera panned over to an old man who walked out a door from the side. He was also wearing a black coat. Thin wisps of grey hair covered his head, but he had thick eyebrows and a mustache that extended past his shoulders. Jorge cleared his throat before speaking into his microphone, "There are clean hits, critical hits, and knockdowns. As you know, 'clean hits' are attacks made through a fighter's defense, and are rewarded with one point apiece. Especially superb hits are classified as 'critical hits', and are worth two points. Knockdowns give one points. And the first fighter to get ten points are rewarded a technical victory. Of course, if your opponent cannot continue, you win due to a knockout!" The camera panned back to Juri, who had a malicious smile. "The time you've all been patiently waiting for has arrived! Fighters, begin!!" All of a sudden, the collar around his neck came apart. It fell with a clang, and he heard a second clang too. The collar around the other prisoner's neck also came apart. A timer started ticking down on the jumbotron, and UM-188 stared at the screen, wondering what to do. A yell from the other prisoner brought him back to reality. The older man, so-called "UE-079", brought his hands together like an open clam, and a red light began to shine brightly. He pushed his hands forward suddenly, and the red light became a beam that shot towards UM-188. He couldn't react fast enough. The beam crashed into him, knocking him off his feet and slamming him onto the stone ground. His grasped his chest, doubling in pain. It hurt like a very strong punch, combined with the heat of a steaming cup of coffee being spilled on yourself. "Clean hit! And knockdown! Two points to zero, UE-079!!" declared Jorge. The crowd erupted in cheers. UM-188 staggered up, putting his arms up in a defensive posture. He had taken up martial arts for a few years to learn self-defense from bullies, so his mind quickly raced on how to beat his opponent. Even soaking wet, he easily outweighs UE-079, despite him being taller than him. Physically, he could definitely beat him in a fight. But with those beams, how can he get close? UE-079 began to bring his hands together again, the red light appearing again. This time, he had to dodge! The red beam shot out, but this time, he closed his eyes briefly, feeling the current of the air. Before the beam could hit him, he propelled himself into the air, using a gust of wind to carry him. All he had to do was to get in and land a clean punch! But the wind that carried him was weak, and he stopped short of the other prisoner. UE-079 had already brought his hands together again... --- Now Prisoner UM-188 understood why the girl had told him to not make friends. He was brought back into his cell. He had quickly lost the last match due to a knockout, failing to dodge the beam. The guard pressed the series of keys and left him. The moment the blue wall appeared again to lock him in, he felt his wounds numbing. Apparently the cells had some healing property. "That was your first fight, wasn't it?" He looked up and saw the the girl again, watching him from her cell. He laid his head back onto the ground. "Why didn't you tell me?" The girl ignored his question, instead saying, "This is what life is like here. You'll fight, every day. He turned to face her. "How long have you been here?" he asked. "A month. Maybe. I'm not sure," she admitted. "But long enough to learn how it works here." --- It took a week, but they eventually became friends. Sort of. He didn't know her actual name, just that she was referred to as UM-112. They would eat together whenever they could, and she would tell him about how things worked. "This prison actually has one hundred floors, going down. Each ten floors is divided into an "arena". Arena 1 is where we're at, which is the top-most level. They make you compete in these fights against other people in the same arena. Based on how well your record is, you're moved between floors." "What happens if you go past the tenth floor?" UM-188 asked. "You move onto the next arena, Arena 2," explained UM-112. "If you win another ten times, then you move downwards to Arena 3. Otherwise, you move back up to Arena 1 if you lose three times before your tenth win. "I've heard from others that once you reach Arena 5, you're treated better. You have a room instead of a cell. The food is better. You're treated better. And there are the sponsors too." "Sponsors?" he asked. "They're the people you see in the crowd, placing their bets. If they like you, they'll hire you. You're free to leave the prison area, and they pay a hefty amount to hire you. I've heard that some sponsors were even ex-prisoners." "So, you're saying it's a good thing to reach Arena 5?" UM-112 didn't look sure. "Well, hard to say, I guess. You're treated better, yes. But the people you face are much tougher. They'll do whatever it takes to stay in Arena 5, because they're treated better." UM-188 nodded, eating as he listened. Then, he noticed he had already finished his food. "Are you going to finish that breast?" he asked, pointing to UM-112's chicken. She looked downwards, made a face, and pushed it towards him. "I can't stand the smell of meat," she said, nose crinkled. He happily stabbed the chicken and began devouring it. "UM-112. UM-112. Please proceed to the arena." The chicken dropped from his mouth, half-chewed. The girl stood up from the table, her expression stoic. He couldn't tell what she was feeling. --- After half an hour when she left, the monitor in the cafeteria flickered to life. It was displaying the arena again, and Juri's voice echoed throughout the cafeteria. "In the red corner we have UM-112!!" A loud roar of cheers sounded out. Apparently she was a favorite of the crowd. "She has won nine times. One more, and she will move on to Arena 2!" UM-188's jaw dropped. She had already won that many times?! "Let's see who her opponent is today!" The camera panned to the other side of the arena. The doors opposite to UM-112 opened, and a girl, also in her late teens, emerged from the opposite door. The crowd also erupted in cheers. "It's UN-097!! Also a fan favorite! He also has 9 wins under his belt. With the next Arena up for grabs, we're in for a spicy match today folks!!" UM-188 blinked. She was actually a boy? --- UN-097 taunted, "I've heard of you, UM-112, watched your matches. You're strong, I'll give you that. But today, I'll be the one moving on, not you." He lowered into a fighting stance, as did she. "Fighters ready? Begin!!" announced Juri. The crowd cheered in response. "I'll tell you a secret," said UN-097 coyly. "But you have to land a hit on me first." He's just trying to bait me into making a mistake, thought UM-112. I'll just keep my distance, until I figure out what he's capable of. "If you really have been watching my matches, then I guess I have nothing to hide!" She took a deep breath, then exhaled with a shout as she shot her fist forward. A jet of red fire sprouted and blasted towards the cocky prisoner. Instead of getting close, she can attack from here! "There it is!! UM-112 unleashes a powerful fireball!! What will UN-097 do?!" announced Juri with excitement. Instead of moving to dodge, UN-097 kept still, letting the fireball get dangerously close. UM-112 blinked. What is he doing? "What's this? Why isn't he moving out of the way?!" echoed Juri, voice dripping with confusion. "He's going to be fried!" In the blink of an eye, UN-097 quickly thrusted his palm forward. All of a sudden, some kind of force shot from his palm, like a distortion in the air, blocking and extinguishing the flames. "WOW! It looks like UN-097 used his Force Palm technique!!" Juri's voice echoed throughout the stadium. --- In one of the highest box seats facing the arena sat a man, watching the fight with an amused smile. He had pale skin and coal-black hair, and wore a three-piece suit that exuded a sense of luxury. This one has potential, he thought, sipping from his glass. --- Next Chapter